The scroll had taken Shizuku four days to work through properly.
Obito had taken six days and complained through most of it.
“Why does the clan even have all this stuff written so weird?” he muttered, squinting at a diagram of chakra flow through the arm on the morning they were meant to demonstrate it.
“Couldn’t they just say ‘push chakra out faster’?” “They did say that.
In four different ways, across three paragraphs.” “Yeah, and none of them made sense the first time.” She didn’t argue the point, mostly because he wasn’t wrong.
Grandma fussed over both of them at the door, straightening Obito’s collar twice, and reminding them both to bow properly and not track dirt into the main house.
“It’s Fugaku, Grandma,” Obito said.
“Not the Hokage.” “To this family, there isn’t much difference,” she said, and shooed them out before they could say another word.
— The Uchiha main house sat near the center of the district, larger and quieter than Shizuku had expected the first time she’d seen it, months ago, and no less imposing now.
A member of the household staff led them through the entrance and into a training courtyard at the back, where Fugaku was already waiting.
So was Yachi.
Obito’s face lit up the moment he saw her.
“You’re here too?” “Grandfather thought it’d be good for me to train with Lord Fugaku sometimes.” She said it with the particular pride of someone repeating a compliment she’d been given.
“He said I should watch how the two of you handle today, since he wants me to improve my form.” “Improve your form by watching us mess up, more like,” Obito said, grinning.
“You mean watching you mess up.” “Hey—” Fugaku’s voice cut through before the argument could properly start.
“If you’re both finished.” They straightened immediately.
He studied them for a moment.
“You were given the introductory Fire Release manuals eleven days ago,” he said.
“Show me what you’ve learned.” Obito went first.
He ran through the modified breathing pattern the scroll described, hands moving through the seals with more confidence than precision, and produced a controlled stream of fire — thinner and more focused than the standard Fireball technique, exactly as the manual described, though it flickered near the end.
Fugaku said nothing until it finished.
“Your seals are half a beat too slow between the third and fourth.
That’s where the flicker came from.” Obito deflated slightly.
“…I thought it looked pretty good.” “It was good.
It could be better.” Fugaku’s tone wasn’t unkind, just commanding.
“Again.
Slower on the transition, not faster.” Obito tried again.
The second attempt held its shape the entire way through.
“Better.” Shizuku went next.
She’d practiced this particular sequence more than she needed to admit out loud — not because she found it difficult, but because she’d wanted to be able to make the jutsu not look effortless.
She would rather seem worse than she actually was because being underestimated by an enemy can be the difference between life and death.
She ran the seals, held the breathing pattern, and released a stream of fire that matched the manual’s description closely enough that Fugaku’s expression shifted slightly.
“How many times did you practice that before today?” “Enough that it wouldn’t fail in front of you.” A faint, almost imperceptible almost-smile crossed his face before it settled back into its usual neutrality.
“Good answer.” He turned to Yachi.
“Take note.
Both of them practiced privately before demonstrating publicly.
That is discipline.” Yachi nodded seriously, the way she took most things Fugaku said.
— The chakra control portion came next and was less comfortable for both siblings than the technique demonstration had been.
Fugaku had them each hold a leaf against their forehead using nothing but chakra adhesion — a basic enough exercise that most academy students eventually managed it, but one that required a level of fine control that raw reserves alone didn’t provide.
Obito’s leaf fell twice before he managed to hold it for a minute, his forehead furrowed with concentration the entire time.
Shizuku’s held on the first attempt, steady, for nearly a full minute before Fugaku told her to stop.
“Your reserves are larger than your brother’s,” he said, “but your control is proportionally even further ahead of them.
That combination is rare.” “Thank you.” “It wasn’t a compliment.
It was simply what I saw.” He said it plainly, without any edge to it.
“A compliment implies I’m pleased.
I simply stated what I saw.
Whether I’m pleased depends on what you do with it.” She thought about what he had just said.
It told her more about how he thought than almost anything else he’d said to her since her parents’ funeral.
Yachi, when it came her turn to demonstrate her own progress from her own training, managed the leaf exercise competently but without the same natural ease — solid fundamentals, Fugaku noted, that would improve with time and did not currently need to be rushed.
“You three have very different strengths,” he said, once the session wound down.
“Obito’s determination and Sh—” He paused, the correction barely noticeable.
“—and talent will make up ground on people who are ahead of him, if he keeps this pace.
Yachi’s fundamentals are sound enough to build almost anything on top of them later.
He looked at Shizuku for a moment longer than he had the other two, as though searching for the right word and not quite finding one.
“And Shizuku’s…” He stopped.
Started again.
“Shizuku doesn’t have a single strength I’d point to over the others.
She’s simply good at all of it, evenly, which is its own kind of unusual.” None of them quite knew what to say to that, so none of them said anything.
Fugaku dismissed them not long after, with instructions to return in a week’s time, and a comment to Yachi that her grandfather would likely want a full report — delivered in a tone that made it clear he expected an honest one, not a flattering one.
— Outside the compound gate, Yachi caught up to Obito’s side before he’d taken three steps.
“Do you two want to get something to eat?
My treat.
Well — my grandfather’s treat, technically, but he won’t mind.” Obito lit up immediately.
“Yeah!
I’m starving.” He looked toward Shizuku, half a question in his expression — an old habit, checking with her before committing to anything.
“I don’t mind,” she said.
They ended up at a small dango stand two streets over.
Yachi talked more than either sibling did, recounting some disaster involving her cousin and a poorly aimed water jutsu.
Shizuku listened more than she participated, the way she usually did, watching the two of them fall into an easy rhythm that had nothing forced about it.
Good, she thought.
Let this keep happening.
Yachi’s family carried real weight within the clan.
If that connection deepened naturally, on its own, without anyone needing to engineer it — that was worth more to Obito and her future than anything Shizuku could arrange herself.
“You’re quiet today,” Yachi said suddenly, turning toward her mid-bite.
“Quieter than usual, I mean.” “I’m always like this.” “You’re always quiet.
This feels different.” Yachi tilted her head slightly.
“Something on your mind?” Shizuku considered deflecting, but upon further thought, it is better if someone knows in case she is taken.
She had been considering telling Fugaku, but he left before she had the chance.
“I think someone’s been watching me recently.” Obito’s chopsticks stopped halfway to his mouth.
“Watching you?
Like — following you?” “Not exactly hiding it, either.
Which is strange.” “That doesn’t sound strange, that sounds bad.” Obito set his food down entirely now, all humor gone from his face.
“Have you told Grandma?
Or Fugaku?” “Not yet.” “Why not?” “Because I’m not certain yet,” she said instead.
“And I don’t want to cause concern over something that might be nothing.” Yachi’s easy expression had gone serious too now, in a way that made her look briefly older than six.
“You should tell someone.
My grandfather always says the clan looks out for its own.
That includes you.” Yachi said Obito nodded firmly, some of his usual bravado creeping back in around the edges of real worry.
“And if anyone’s bothering my sister, they’re gonna have to go through me first.” Shizuku smiled at that; although she did not think he actually could protect her, she appreciated the sentiment.
“Noted,” she said instead, and let the conversation move on to something lighter, because there was nothing more useful to say about it yet.
Not until she understood exactly who was watching.